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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339019">Snake arms</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sani86/pseuds/Sani86'>Sani86</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Belly Dancing, Blow Jobs, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Sweetheart (Good Omens), Flirting, Hand Jobs, M/M, eating suggestively</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:13:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sani86/pseuds/Sani86</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, Aziraphale allowed Anathema to con him into joining her for a belly dancing class.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>338</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Good Omens Human AUs</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Trial</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/gifts">UlsPi</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is 50% because I think male belly dancers deserve more recognition, and 50% because of the mental image of Crowley belly dancing. Shout out to UlsPi for making me think of this, and then indulging all my shouting about it 😊</p><p>Not much slow burning this time around, this is just fun.</p><p>I am very much an amateur/hobby belly dancer, so please forgive any slip-ups in terminology and so on. </p><p>Also, this is the first time I’m trying to insert hyperlinks between the text and notes. Please let me know if they don’t work properly.</p><p>This will probably update every day or two until done; I have 5 chapters written and no idea how long it will be.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Remind me, why did I let you talk me into this?” Aziraphale eyed the dozen or so women standing around the dance studio nervously. By the look of it, they ranged in age from barely-out-of-school to well into middle age. He was the only man in the studio, and no wonder. He tugged nervously at the hem of the unaccustomed t-shirt, trying in vain to hide the curve of his stomach. He couldn’t have been more ill-at-ease if he tried.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You lost a bet, remember,” Anathema grinned at him.</p>
<p>“Right,” Aziraphale said glumly. “Is it too late to change the stakes? Offer you my firstborn child instead?”</p>
<p>Anathema just laughed. “You and I both know you’ll never have a firstborn child, at least not the normal way.”</p>
<p>He shot her a glare. True, the chances of him voluntarily impregnating a woman were close to nil, but still.</p>
<p>“Just relax, Zira. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.” Anathema gave him a sidelong glance. “Besides, the instructor’s a real babe. Even if you hate the dancing, you can at least enjoy the view.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Thank you, dear, but I very much doubt she’ll be to my liking, no matter how pretty she is.”</p>
<p>“She?” Anathema said with an evil grin. “Who said anything about <em>she</em>?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Aziraphale could ask her what that was supposed to mean, they were interrupted by the instructor in question bursting into the studio. Indeed, it wasn’t a she, but a lanky redheaded man who moved as if he was dancing to some music only he could hear. He was dressed in tight black jeans and Doc Martens, topped with a leather jacket. He looked rather like he’d gotten lost on the way to a rock concert.</p>
<p>“You’re all here for the belly dance class, yeah?” he asked over his shoulder as he shrugged off his jacket. He was wearing a sleeveless black vest underneath, leaving a pair of lean, toned arms on display. A tattooed snake was twined around the right bicep, its head resting just above his elbow and its body disappearing under the black fabric of his shirt. Aziraphale caught himself wondering how far that tattoo went.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Great, let’s get started,” said the man brightly. “I’m Crowley, and welcome to the class. As I’m sure you know, this is a trial class, so we’ll just cover some basics, to give you an idea of what it’s all about. Anyone here done belly dance before?” he asked. No-one had.</p>
<p>“Right, so we’re starting on a blank page. My favourite.”</p>
<p>Crowley had removed his boots and was now peeling off his jeans, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he nearly caused half his class to have a heart attack. His black tights left very little to the imagination, clearly outlining the muscles of his legs.</p>
<p>Aziraphale only realised he was staring when Anathema placed a finger under his chin, as if she was pushing his mouth shut. Thankfully his mouth wasn’t actually hanging open, but it was a near thing. He shot Anathema a glare that should have left her as nothing but a pile of smoking remains, but she just laughed at him. The cheek.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“All right, gather round,” Crowley called out. He was tying a silvery shawl around his waist, and it somehow created the effect of curves even where he didn’t have them.</p>
<p>“You can come closer, I won’t bite,” he said teasingly when everyone clustered around the back. A few brave souls made their way to the front, and the rest spread themselves out in the available floor space.</p>
<p>“Okay, ladies,” he began, and then his eye caught Aziraphale. “And gentleman, I see.” He arched an eyebrow. ”Now that’s a pleasant surprise.” Aziraphale looked down, certain he was blushing neon pink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Before we start, let’s just dispel a few myths about belly dance. I think you can guess at the first one: belly dance is not just for women. I mean, I’ve been doing it for almost twenty years now, and last I checked, I was definitely male.” This earned a few giggles from the ladies in the class.</p>
<p>“Secondly, belly dance is not a sexual thing, like a striptease. It can be very sensual and seductive, if that’s what you’re going for, but really it’s an art form as much as ballet or tap or any other type of dance.</p>
<p>“And building on that, my third and most important point: there’s no right or wrong body type for belly dance. Despite what you may see on YouTube, you don’t have to look like a swimwear model to be a belly dancer. Doesn’t matter if you’re tall or short, skinny or fat, curvy or flat as a plank – I guarantee you’ll have fun here, and look good doing it.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale privately had his doubts about that. There was a reason he chose to stand right in the back, far from the mirrors and anyone’s prying eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And that brings me to the only rule I have for my classes: we don’t judge. We’re all here to have fun, and if you spoil it for someone else, I will politely ask you to please fuck off. Deal?”</p>
<p>He eyed the class with a mock scowl. When they responded with a chorus of yeses – and obvious relief on the part of some of the ladies – he broke into a smile and clapped his hands. “Excellent! Let’s warm up!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale ended up enjoying that class far more than he expected to. The moves were challenging enough that he was forced to concentrate on what his body was doing, and not how silly he was undoubtedly looking. It helped having Anathema there – they laughed their way through hip snaps and snake arms, shoulder shimmies and one particularly hilarious move called the camel<a id="return1" name="return1"><sup>[</sup></a><a href="#note1">1</a>]. Of course, it was only hilarious when executed by a group of already giggling amateurs; when Crowley did it, it left Aziraphale dry-mouthed and thankful that the redness in his cheeks could be blamed on the physical exertion of dancing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was surprised when Crowley announced that they only had about five minutes left. Where had an hour gone?</p>
<p>“Before we cool down, I’m going to do one proper dance for you, so that you can get an idea of what the finished product looks like.”</p>
<p>The ladies moved off to the sides of the studio, leaving the floor clear. Aziraphale positioned himself with his back against the wall, gratefully accepting a water bottle from Anathema and taking a deep drink.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The music started, an almost mournful tune, and Crowley’s arms were weaving in a way that suggested his bones must be made of rubber. The music seemed to almost wind down, there was a moment of stillness, and then – if you asked Aziraphale – all hell broke loose. Or all heaven, he supposed, but he was sure being able to move your body like that would have to involve a deal with the devil. Did the man even have a skeleton? Aziraphale was shamelessly staring now, mesmerised by the twirling, undulating, shimmying creature before him. It was utterly extraordinary.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>All too soon the dance ended, and the whole class spontaneously burst into applause. “Thank you, thank you,” laughed Crowley, giving a theatrically exaggerated bow. Aziraphale felt an elbow in his ribs, and turned to see Anathema grinning at him with an <em>‘I told you so’</em> expression. He made a face at her, and moved to join the rest of the class on the floor for cool down stretches. Talk about an undignified exercise, but at least everyone looked equally silly trying to touch their toes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Afterwards, of course, Anathema insisted that they should go thank Crowley in person, insisting that it was only polite. Aziraphale wasn’t at all sure if that was a good idea, but he knew better than to argue with Anathema, so he sighed and followed her to the front.</p>
<p> </p><h3>Footnotes</h3>
<p><a id="note1" name="note1"></a>[1] The camel is a gorgeous move when done by a professional: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVl5LMzHJ8U&amp;t=16s">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVl5LMzHJ8U&amp;t=16s</a>. It also totally does look and feel ridiculous the first time you do it. It’s not really a beginner’s move, but it was included in my first trial class, so eh.<sup>[<a href="#return1">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Didn’t think men could belly dance? Please do me a favour and check out Rachid Alexander: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7YybtHUAvQ">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s7YybtHUAvQ</a>. Feel free to imagine Crowley doing this. Remember to breathe.<br/>(By the way, that move he does with his arms in the beginning is called snake arms, among other names.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Mystery man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The first class again, but this time from Crowley's point of view</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>Crowley had been surprised, to say the least, when he noticed the blond-haired man in his class. In all the years he’d been teaching, he’d never had another man in one of his classes. Sure, he was a man himself, and he knew a fair number of other male belly dancers, but he also knew that to everyone else, belly dancing was considered very much a female activity. He hadn’t missed the looks of surprise when the women realised he’d be teaching the class.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His curiosity piqued, he’d been unable to stop his eye from wandering to the man every few minutes. But that was okay, right? He was the instructor here; he was supposed to watch the students. So what if his eyes strayed to one of them a bit more often that the others? No-one could prove anything.</p>
<p>Crowley hadn’t noticed it at first, but with every glance he was realising more and more that the man was rather beautiful, like a cherub from an old Renaissance painting. Everything about him looked so wonderfully soft, from the curves of his body to the white-blonde curls that framed his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The poor man had looked like a fish out of water at the start of the class – clearly, he was only there because the dark-haired girl with him had dragged him there. Crowley idly wondered how she’d managed that; what the relationship between them was. They certainly seemed very comfortable with each other, laughing and teasing their way through the lesson. Somehow, Crowley couldn’t imagine that they were romantically involved. It may have been the fact that there was clearly at least ten years between them (not that that meant much on its own). It may have been the fact that the girl was wearing a ring on her left hand, and the man wasn’t. But mostly, it was because something in the man’s whole demeanour shouted “GAY!” so loudly that he might as well have been doing the can-can in a rainbow tutu.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At one point, Crowley had his back to the class, demonstrating a simple sequence of steps. He stole a glance at the mystery man in the mirror. He had tripped over his feet and now he was laughing, head thrown back, exposing his pale, soft throat. Crowley swallowed hard and forced himself to look away. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring, no matter how much he wanted to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He turned back around to face the class. “Come on, then, you all try it. To the right first. One, two, three, four...”</p>
<p>He mirrored the movements, guiding them through the choreography. It was only a few simple moves strung together, but it was easy to learn and had the benefit of looking like a real little dance. Once the class had a handle on the sequence, they added the music.</p>
<p>Crowley remained facing the class, guiding them through the moves and calling out instructions and reminders. By the third repetition of the sequence, it was going smoothly. All the awkwardness from the start of the class was forgotten, and everyone was simply enjoying themselves. Crowley felt his own smile stretch wider – this was what he loved best about teaching.</p>
<p>He let his eyes roam over the group, his body continuing on autopilot. His gaze lingered on a certain plump body for a few beats longer than necessary, fascinated by the way its shape shifted as the man moved his hips in a slow circle<a id="return2" name="return2"></a><sup>[<a href="#note2">2</a>]</sup>. Oh boy. He had to forcibly tear his eyes away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Last bar coming up!” he called out. “Let’s end with a turn. One, two, shoulder shimmy, and turn!” He spun slowly in place, raising his arms as he went, so that he ended up facing the group with his arms above his head just as the last note died away.</p>
<p>The students clapped their hands at the conclusion of the dance, beaming with pride as if to say, ‘look at us, doing a real proper belly dance!’ Crowley clapped along, praising them all for a job well done, but his eyes were drawn to the other man like a compass needle seeking magnetic north. The radiant smile he found on the other man’s face made something warm bloom in his chest. Job well done indeed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He always ended his trial classes with a proper professional dance – mostly because he wanted to give the students a taste of the possibilities of belly dance, but also just a little bit because he enjoyed showing off. He had a few routines that he kept in practice for when he had to give the odd spontaneous demonstration, and with a grin he selected the music for the one that he privately considered the most impressive.</p>
<p>As the music started, he closed his eyes for a few moments to centre himself, allowing his body to start flowing through the well-practiced movements. As the pace picked up he smiled and made eye contact with some of the ladies in the front; he knew that acting slightly flirtatious took his dances from good to great. He studiously avoided the back row where the blonde man was standing, though; acting flirtatious was one thing, but meaning it was quite another, and he didn’t trust himself to keep control over his limbs if the man should smile back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He gave an overly dramatic bow when the dance was over,  grinning at the applause. Head still bowed, he stole a glance at the man from under his eyelashes. He was gratified to note that the blonde was staring at him with open admiration. Bingo!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After guiding everyone through a series of cool-down stretches, he invited them to come sign up to join a regular class. He handed out forms and answered questions, but he really had only one aim in mind: speak to the mystery man. Fortunately, the blonde’s companion seemed to have the same idea in mind: she had her hand locked around his wrist and was unceremoniously dragging him in Crowley’s direction. Crowley put on his most winning smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi, guys!” he greeted with a smile. “Glad you joined us today. Hope you enjoyed it?”</p>
<p>“Oh yes,” the girl replied enthusiastically. “I’m definitely signing up for a class. I’m Anathema,” she introduced herself, “and this is Aziraphale. We’re the local chapter of the unnecessarily-long-names-starting-with-A club.”</p>
<p>Crowley chuckled. “That’s a mouthful. Two mouthfuls, in fact.”</p>
<p>“Yes, heavens know what possessed my mother when she was picking out my name,” Anathema went on. “Aziraphale here is named after an angel, so at least there’s some method to the madness.”</p>
<p>“An angel, eh?” Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “Rather suits you, I think.” Aziraphale turned adorably pink at the compliment. He still hadn’t said a word to Crowley.</p>
<p>“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he said. “I hope I’ll be seeing more of you?”</p>
<p>Since Anathema had already answered that question, he directed it at Aziraphale.</p>
<p>“Oh, dear, no, I don’t think so,” Aziraphale finally spoke up. “I only came today because I lost a bet.”</p>
<p>“Class that bad, huh?” asked Crowley, teasing.</p>
<p>“Oh, no, not at all!” Aziraphale seemed quite flustered. “It was actually jolly good fun. But I don’t think I’m dancer material.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense!” Crowley retorted. “We’re not training to put on a concert here, we’re just enjoying ourselves. Having fun is more than enough reason to join a class. Besides,” he added, “It would be fantastic to have another man around.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, come on, Zira.” Anathema joined in. “You won’t make me do this by myself, will you?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Oh, all right. I’ll think about it. But I’m not making any promises.”</p>
<p>Hmm. Not quite what Crowley was hoping for, but he’d take it.</p>
<p>“Great! Fill these in for me,” he handed them a couple of forms, “and I’ll get back to you in the next day or two.” Crowley tried to hide his delight when Aziraphale took the proffered form and filled it out. If nothing else, it meant he now had the angel’s mobile number. Even if he decided not to join the class, Crowley could make sure they’d see each other again.</p>
<p> </p><h3>Footnotes</h3>
<p><a id="note2" name="note2"></a>[2] Look, as much as Crowley and I may protest that belly dance is not inherently sexual, it can be very, very sexy. Especially if it is being done by a body you would very much like to get your hands on. <sup>[<a href="#return2">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Soft angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>How will Anathema convince Aziraphale to keep coming to class with her?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale had absolutely no intention of joining a regular belly dancing class. What on earth would he, an almost-forty-year old man, want to do that for? He didn’t even have the usual straight-guy motivation of looking at all the pretty ladies. The instructor, of course was a different matter...</p>
<p>Which was simply another reason to avoid the class. Crowley was absolutely stunning, and he seemed like a rather nice person to boot. Aziraphale didn’t trust himself to spend an hour every week looking at the man, listening to his voice and laughing at his jokes, without developing a serious crush on him. A crush that would never lead anywhere but longing and, if he let himself fall far enough, heartbreak for him. No, that simply wouldn’t do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>However, Anathema was proving impossible to dissuade. For some reason that Aziraphale couldn’t begin to guess at, she had decided that they should do this together, and she wasn’t taking no for an answer.</p>
<p>“Come on, Zira,” she nagged him for the hundredth time while they were having brunch on Saturday. “You had fun in that class; you know you did. Why are you being stubborn?”</p>
<p>“I’m not stubborn, my dear. I just don’t think dancing is for me,” Aziraphale countered.</p>
<p>“Are you kidding me? I remember you telling me about learning the gavotte for your theatre group in high school.”</p>
<p>“That was twenty years ago,” Aziraphale laughed. “I’m hardly a teenager anymore!”</p>
<p>“So?” said Anathema “You still love dancing, admit it.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale just rolled his eyes at her. She was right, of course; the belly dancing class had been the most fun he’d had in ages – but she didn’t need to know that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Besides,” she added slyly, “Don’t you want to see Crowley again?”</p>
<p>“What?” It came out somewhere between a snort and a squeak, and made Anathema laugh.</p>
<p>“I saw you looking at him,” she said, as if that explained it all. In all honesty, it rather did, but Aziraphale wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that.</p>
<p>“Well, of course I was looking at him. He was teaching the class.” His tone was indignant, but he knew his blush was betraying him.</p>
<p>“Sure, that’s the only reason you were looking,” she teased, laughing. “Or should I say, <em>staring</em>.”</p>
<p>“Anathema! Please! We are <em>not</em> having this conversation!” Aziraphale insisted.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay; I’ll lay off,” she conceded. “But I just have one more thing to say: you weren’t the only one staring.”</p>
<p>“That’s hardly surprising,” he said. “I’m sure at least half the ladies in the class were ogling him. He does rather invite it.”</p>
<p>“No, doofus,” said Anathema with mock exasperation. “I meant he was staring. At you.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be absurd,” said Aziraphale, dismissing the idea that Crowley would want to look at him out of hand. “He probably just found me ridiculous.”</p>
<p>“Nah,” said Anathema. “He was staring the same way you were; I guarantee it. Am I ever wrong?”</p>
<p>“There’s a first time for everything,” Aziraphale said grimly. True, his friend did have an uncanny intuition for this sort of thing, but it must have been malfunctioning on that day, because there was no way the gorgeous dancer could have been watching him with anything approaching interest.</p>
<p>“Prove me wrong, then,” Anathema insisted. “Join the class, and let me have another look.”</p>
<p>“You’re a menace,” he said, instead of giving her a direct answer.</p>
<p>“Is that a yes?” she asked, smiling.</p>
<p>“No, it isn’t. Now be quiet and eat your tofu.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She finally relented, dropping the subject for the remainder of brunch. But when they parted later, she waved him off with a cheery “see you on Tuesday!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale had fully intended to skip out on the belly dancing class, Anathema’s protestations notwithstanding. But on Monday night, he received a text from a number he didn’t know:</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Received 20:10; unknown number) – hey its crowley</p>
  <p>(Received 20:10; unknown number) – from the dance class</p>
  <p>(Received 20:10; unknown number) – will you be joining tomorrow?</p>
  <p>(Received 20:10; unknown number) – i know your friend is</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>Well, now, how he supposed to answer that? He honestly hadn’t been planning on going, but it felt rather rude to just refuse outright. He spent a good twenty minutes fretting over how to reply, before typing out and sending:</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Sent 20:32; Crowley) – Hello Crowley. It’s kind of you to text. Unfortunately, I’m not sure I will be able to make it.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>Crowley’s reply came through almost instantaneously:</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Received 20:33; Crowley) – i hope you will</p>
  <p>(Received 20:33; Crowley) – it would be a nice change from having only women in the class</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale couldn’t find it in himself to say no.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Sent 20:35; Crowley) – I’ll see.</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>(Received 20:36; Crowley) – you left out the ‘you tomorrow’ ;)</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>(Sent 20:38; Crowley) – You’re awfully optimistic.</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>(Received 20:39; Crowley) – always</p>
  <p>(Received 20:39; Crowley) – tomorrow then ;)</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale decided not to dignify that with a response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Turns out, Anathema wasn’t taking any chances. She turned up at Aziraphale’s door on Tuesday afternoon, an hour before the class was due to start, and insisted that he get changed and come along. A promise to take him out for dinner after the class sealed the deal. And so, Aziraphale found himself walking into a dance studio for the second time in as many weeks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hiya angel!” said Crowley, smiling as if he was actually excited to see Aziraphale. “Glad you made it!”</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s brain had hung somewhere around the second word. “Angel?” he managed.</p>
<p>“Because of your name, you know? Sorry, was that not okay?” Crowley looked a little flustered.</p>
<p>“No, no, it’s fine,” Aziraphale rushed to reassure him. “Just unexpected, that’s all.”</p>
<p>“Okay then,” Crowley grinned, “Angel it is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale moved to take his place – back of the class, as usual. There were fewer people this time; only five other ladies besides him and Anathema. Anathema looked from him to Crowley and back again with a mischievous sort of smile, and raised a single eyebrow. He attempted to shoot her a murderous glare, but it obviously didn’t come out quite right, because she just laughed and turned her attention to the instructor.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley was delighted that Aziraphale had come – he had spent a good five days debating with himself whether he should text the man, but clearly the gamble had paid off. There had been a slightly awkward moment when the angel nickname slipped out – Crowley had taken to calling the man angel in his mind, when his full name felt a bit long – but Aziraphale had turned the prettiest shade of pink and then given him permission to continue. Not a bad result.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Anyway, back to the class. He guided the ladies (and one angel) through the warm-up, and reviewed the moves they had learned in the trial class. After that, it was time to start learning some proper belly dance technique.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“One of the most important skills in belly dance is isolation,” he said. “That means different parts of your body move independently, so you can move the one while keeping the other completely still; like this,” he demonstrated, moving his hips in a circle while keeping his chest still; “or this,” this time, his chest was circling and his hips were still. “You can also do two completely separate moves,” he demonstrated, doing a shimmy with his shoulders and a figure-eight with his hips at the same time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ll start with the easiest one: moving your hips while keeping your shoulders still. Stand with your feet slightly apart and knees slightly bent; you need to move from your knees so that your shoulders stay still.” He guided them through a series of moves, gradually increasing the level of difficulty: back-to-front pelvic tilts, then side-to-side hip movements, and finally a full circle like he’d demonstrated earlier. Once he’d demonstrated each movement, he walked through the class, praising and correcting as appropriate. He had to be very careful when looking at Aziraphale – it was far too easy to imagine those plush hips moving like that in an entirely different context, and his tights were entirely too revealing for him to be dwelling on that sort of thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After everyone had more or less mastered the hip circle, they moved on to the chest circle. They started with the side-to-side slide, then the back-front chest lift.</p>
<p>“This one is easier for the ladies,” he joked; “Just stick those boobs out and then drop back again.” <a id="return3" name="return3"></a>It caused a few giggles, but it did help them understand the move better<sup>[<a href="#note3">3</a>]</sup>. They moved on to a four-point left-front-right-back sequence, and then a smooth circle. As always, Crowley was walking between his students, helping them figure out the move.</p>
<p>Aziraphale seemed to be struggling with this move more than the others; he couldn’t seem to stop his hips following the movement of his chest. Crowley came to stand behind him. “I’m going to help you keep your hips still, okay?” he asked, and placed his hands on the angel’s hips.</p>
<p>Now, it must be said that this was not an unusual thing for Crowley to do. Earlier in that class, he’d done the same for several of the ladies. But when his hands landed on those soft hips, something in his brain short-circuited, and he had to swallow hard a few times before he could get a word out.</p>
<p>“Try it again, now,” he managed. He was standing close enough that Aziraphale’s hair almost brushed his nose as he moved back, and he had to suppress an urge to bury his face in the curls. He wondered if they were as soft as they looked; as soft as his body was under Crowley’s hands...</p>
<p>Oh-kay, time to take a step back before he did something stupid, like kneading his fingers into the angel’s plushness.</p>
<p>“That’s it,” he managed as he moved away, which earned him a proud smile from the angel. Was it his imagination, or were those pale cheeks a few shades redder than they had been a minute earlier? Nah, probably just the exertion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He kept a respectful distance from Aziraphale for the rest of the class; not ignoring him, but just avoiding any sort of touch. He was afraid he might combust otherwise, or melt into a boneless pile of goo. He still looked at him, though. Probably more than was strictly necessary. He couldn’t help it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Afterwards, Anathema came up to him again, this time without Aziraphale in tow.</p>
<p>“How are you liking the class?” he asked. “You’re doing really well.”</p>
<p>“Loving it,” she answered, “And thanks. I actually wanted to ask you something about your classes.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?” he asked.</p>
<p>“Do you do private classes? Like, if I want to learn a specific dance?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” said Crowley. “Any particular reason?”</p>
<p>“Well, I’m getting married in a few months’ time,” Anathema began.</p>
<p>“Congratulations,” Crowley interjected. “’s he the lucky guy?” he asked, gesturing to Aziraphale with his head.</p>
<p>Anathema burst out laughing. “Hell, no! He’s completely and unequivocally <em>not</em> into women. Seriously, can’t you tell?”</p>
<p>“Okay, I’ll admit, I suspected,” Crowley conceded. “Didn’t want to presume, though.”</p>
<p>“I love Zira dearly, but he’s like a big brother to me.” Anathema gave him a sly look. “Wish I could find him a nice boyfriend, really.”</p>
<p><em>He’s single!</em> Crowley’s inner voice shouted. <em>You might actually have a chance!</em></p>
<p>“Um, so, your wedding?” he managed, shelving that thought for later.</p>
<p>“Oh, yes. I know you said this is not a sexy dancing kind of class, but maybe you could make an exception? I thought it might be a nice... honeymoon surprise, if you will, if I could learn a special dance.”</p>
<p>Crowley had to laugh at Anathema’s salacious expression. “You betcha,” he said. “Let me check my schedule, and I’ll text you to sort out a time slot, okay?”</p>
<p>“Perfect,” she said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale came walking up to them. “Anathema, dear, are you quite done? I’m starving and you owe me dinner.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, okay,” she responded, but then paused. Her mouth curved into a mischievous smile that Aziraphale knew usually spelled trouble for someone.</p>
<p>“Say, do you want to join us?” she asked Crowley.</p>
<p>“What?” Aziraphale and Crowley responded simultaneously.</p>
<p>“Join us for dinner,” she repeated. “If you’re not busy. The more the merrier, right?”</p>
<p>“Um. If Aziraphale doesn’t mind?” Crowley said tentatively.</p>
<p>“Of course he doesn’t,” Anathema said, “Right, Zira?” Aziraphale nodded.</p>
<p>“Okay, then,” Crowley said. “Where are we going?”</p>
<p>“I was thinking Pizza Pilgrims in Soho? You know it?” When Crowley nodded, she continued, “We’re just gonna catch a quick shower, I’m sweating like a racehorse. Meet you there in an hour?”</p>
<p>“Sure thing,” said Crowley, trying not to let his excitement show. Dinner with the angel! This day had turned out better than even he could have imagined.</p>
<p> </p><h3>Footnotes</h3>
<p><a id="note3" name="note3"></a>[3] Seriously. That’s how I learned this move and it’s what I still say in my head when doing it. <sup>[<a href="#return3">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you’re interested in what those moves look like:</p>
<p>- Hip circle: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jP4VwF7zys&amp;list=PLFD096612161E3381&amp;index=38">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_jP4VwF7zys&amp;list=PLFD096612161E3381&amp;index=38</a></p>
<p>- Chest circle: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEmKb7ZZYHs">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XEmKb7ZZYHs</a> (this is surprisingly difficult. Go on, try it!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Nutella and wine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They have dinner.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale had been a bit annoyed at Anathema for inviting Crowley to join them for dinner. Well, not annoyed exactly. Surprised, perhaps. Caught off guard. And, okay, secretly delighted, but it wouldn’t do to let her know that.</p>
<p>He had to admit, though, he had been a bit nervous. They barely knew the man. What if it was awkward, if they didn’t have anything in common? Worse yet, what if Crowley found him boring, or annoying?</p>
<p>As it turned out, he had worried in vain. The three of them had hit it off immediately, chatting like lifelong friends over a trio of pizzas and a bottle of red wine. They were just debating whether to order dessert when Anathema pulled out her mobile.</p>
<p>“Oh, would you look at that,” she remarked, “Newt was looking for me. Says I should get home as quickly as possible.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale shot her a look. It was a look with a lot to say, the sort of look him and Anathema had perfected over the years. An unspoken conversation passed between them, along the lines of:</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know you’re lying. You can’t lie to me.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Wanna bet? Watch me.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I know what you’re trying to do, you meddlesome witch.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh yes? You can thank me tomorrow.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I hate you.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Love you too.”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You wanna leave too, angel?” Crowley interrupted their staring match. “Or stay for dessert?”</p>
<p>“No, you guys stay,” Anathema insisted, before Aziraphale could open his mouth. <a id="return4" name="return4"></a>“Try the Nutella thing.<sup>[<a href="#note4">4</a>]</sup></p>
<p>She gave Aziraphale a peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Bye, Crowley.”</p>
<p>And with that, she was gone, leaving Aziraphale alone with the man he had a rapidly growing crush on.</p>
<p>“So, Nutella thing?” Crowley asked. When Aziraphale nodded, he waved over a waiter, and ordered the dessert, along with an espresso for himself. While he was talking to the waiter, Aziraphale took a moment just to look at him, appreciating the view. He must have had a shower after dance class, too; his hair had been damp when he arrived, and the strands that had escaped from his messy bun were framing his face in wispy waves. He was dressed much like he had been on the first day, tight jeans and leather jacket, but the vest top had been swopped out for a (still black) button-up that clung to his chest in a way that outlined every muscle. Aziraphale felt hopelessly frumpy next to him, in his sweater vest and bow tie. Crowley was so far out of his league, it hurt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley had been quite pleased when Anathema announced she was leaving, and positively overjoyed when Aziraphale agreed to stay for dessert. Finally, he could spend some time alone with the angel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They chatted easily until their dessert arrived. Crowley was in the middle of a story, so he didn’t pay much heed when the waiter put the plate down, just kept right on talking. Aziraphale, meanwhile, made a start on the rich Nutella-filled pastry, carefully assembling a bite on his fork and bringing it to his mouth. But then, oh God. The moment Aziraphale’s pretty pink lips closed around the morsel, he closed his eyes and let out a soft moan of pleasure that surely didn’t belong anywhere outside the bedroom. Crowley choked mid-word, all his mental faculties suddenly occupied with images of using his own mouth to make Aziraphale moan like that.</p>
<p>“My dear, are you quite alright?” Aziraphale asked, looking at Crowley with concern.</p>
<p>“Ngk.” Words. He needed to make words. “Yeah. Just, uh, some coffee went down the wrong way.” He hadn’t been drinking coffee, but hopefully Aziraphale wouldn’t notice. Or at least not comment. “How’s the Nutella thing?” he deflected.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale’s expression went from concerned to delighted. “Oh, it’s simply scrumptious! Here, you must try a bite.” He loaded up the fork with pastry and Nutella and a blob of ice cream, and held it out to Crowley.</p>
<p>Crowley didn’t take the fork from him. Instead, he leaned over and ate the proffered bite from his hand. He deliberately kept his eyes locked on Aziraphale’s as he wrapped his lips around the tines of the fork and then slowly pulled off. Two could play at this game. He was pleased to notice a faint blush tinting the other man’s cheeks.</p>
<p>“Hmm,” said Crowley, and swallowed. “’s nice.” He was absolutely not just talking about the Nutella thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rest of dessert passed in a similar fashion, with Crowley sipping his espresso and Aziraphale eating his dessert, passing Crowley a bite every so often. Far too soon, they were finished, and it was time to go. Crowley really didn’t want to say goodbye yet. Quite apart from his attraction (and he had that in spades), he was enjoying the man’s company immensely.</p>
<p>“Do you need a lift home, angel?” Crowley asked, hoping to extend the evening by a few more minutes.</p>
<p>“Oh, no need,” Aziraphale answered. “I live just a few blocks away.”</p>
<p>“Walk you home, then?” Crowley offered. <em>Please, don’t make me say goodbye yet.</em></p>
<p>“You really don’t have to go to the trouble,” Aziraphale responded, looking down shyly.</p>
<p>“No trouble,” he responded. “I’d like nothing better.”</p>
<p>“Okay, then,” Aziraphale relented with a smile. “This way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They set off, chatting comfortably about this and that as they walked.  Crowley stuffed his hands (well, the fingers of his hands) into the pockets of his jeans to stop them doing something unauthorised, like grabbing the hand of the angel walking next to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before long, Aziraphale came to a halt on a street corner, digging though his coat pocket and pulling out a key.</p>
<p>“Well, this is me,” he said, brightly.</p>
<p>Crowley looked up at the building. “You live in a bookshop?” he asked, curious.</p>
<p>“Sort of,” Aziraphale answered. “I live in the flat above, actually, but the shop feels more like home.”</p>
<p>“Huh,” said Crowley. “I’ll have to come check it out sometime.”</p>
<p>They stood in silence for a moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, thank you for walking with me,” Aziraphale said.</p>
<p>“Anytime.” Crowley wondered if he could get away with a kiss. Or maybe just a hug? No, probably not. Too soon. It would be weird. So he just gave a little wave and said “See ya, angel,” as he turned and left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On Saturday, Crowley showed up at the bookshop. Aziraphale had been peacefully reading behind the counter when he heard the bell above the door jingle, but he only looked up at the already-familiar “Hiya, angel.”</p>
<p>“Crowley!” he said, not even trying to hide his delight. “What a pleasant surprise.”</p>
<p>“Thought I’d come check out this shop of yours,” Crowley said, turning around in a slow circle to take in the towering shelves and stacks that filled the space. “Think you have enough books in here, then?” he asked teasingly.</p>
<p>“Bite your tongue.” Aziraphale chuckled. “There’s no such thing as too many books.”</p>
<p>“Well, I can see why you like the place,” Crowley said. “Feels very cosy.”</p>
<p>“I do like it,” Aziraphale responded. It was thrilling, having Crowley here in his space. The fact that he seemed to approve of it, well, that was just a bonus.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Would you like a drink?” Aziraphale asked. “Tea, perhaps, or cocoa? I was just about to close up for the day anyway.”</p>
<p>“Tea sounds great,” Crowley responded.</p>
<p>Aziraphale quickly bolted the door, flipping the sign to closed, and led the way to the shop’s back room. “Make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing at the sofa. “I’ll bring tea.”</p>
<p>While the kettle boiled, Aziraphale busied himself setting out a tray with milk, sugar and ginger biscuits, fussing with the tea things in a bid to distract himself from the fact that the most beautiful man he had ever seen was sitting in the next room. It didn’t help. He imagined sitting down on the sofa next to Crowley, perhaps shuffling closer ever so gradually, placing a hand on a muscled thigh...</p>
<p><em>Get a hold on yourself, Aziraphale,</em> he scolded himself. <em>This is a purely friendly visit. </em>He took a few deep breaths, willing himself calm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When he returned to the back room, he found Crowley sprawled out on the sofa, book in hand, reading intently. If he’d doubted whether the man had a normal skeleton before, the way he was sitting (if it could be called sitting) was the final evidence that he didn’t; surely no human spine could bend that way. It was utterly ridiculous, and had no business looking so alluring at the same time.</p>
<p>Crowley looked up as Aziraphale put the tray down. “Like your reading matter,” he said with a mischievous grin.</p>
<p>For the first time, Aziraphale paid attention to the book Crowley was holding in his hands. Oh, dear Lord, it was a collection of Neruda poetry that he’d been reading the night before. Crowley had it open at the bookmark, so <a id="return5" name="return5"></a>Aziraphale knew exactly what he had been reading<sup>[<a href="#note5">5</a>]</sup>. He blushed as he recalled the lines.</p>
<p>“Well, there’s a few thousand books in here,” he said, flustered. “You’re bound to find something you like.”</p>
<p>Crowley didn’t say anything more, just helped himself to a mug of tea and a couple of biscuits.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale managed to steer the conversation to less risky topics, and once again they found themselves chatting away as if they’d been best friends for years. Aziraphale couldn’t remember when last he’d been so comfortable with someone other than Anathema (Except, pf course, that Anathema didn’t send a little shiver down his spine every time she smiled at him…).</p>
<p>Hours passed without either of them noticing. Crowley didn’t seem at all inclined to head home, and Aziraphale wasn’t about to complain. Tea became wine, and takeaway Thai food, and yet more wine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Halfway through the second bottle, Crowley piped up with a question.</p>
<p>“So, I haven’t asked yet, how did you end up in a belly dancing class? You don’t seem the type.”</p>
<p>Even through the pleasant haze of alcohol, Aziraphale felt the words stab at him. He knew he wasn’t built like a dancer – wasn’t built like anything any sane person would want to see naked, really – but he hadn’t expected Crowley to be so brash about it.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” he asked in a small voice.</p>
<p>“Dunno, you just don’t strike me as the athletic type,” said Crowley, seemingly unaware of Aziraphale’s discomfort.</p>
<p>“I’m not,” he answered. “I guess it shows.”  He wrapped his arms protectively around his middle.</p>
<p>“Angel?” said Crowley, looking at him with something that might have been concern. “Why are you looking like that? Did I say something wrong?”</p>
<p>Aziraphale sighed. “Don’t worry about it, my dear. I’m well aware that I’m not exactly dancer material.”</p>
<p>Crowley seemed to realise what was going on in that instant. “Wait, did you think I was making some sort of remark about you... your <em>body?</em>” Aziraphale stayed silent, but his expression must have said something. “No, angel. I would never...” Crowley looked mortified.</p>
<p>“Really, Crowley, don’t worry about it.” Aziraphale really, really didn’t want to talk about this.</p>
<p>“No, listen. Look here.” Crowley was fumbling with his phone, hissing as his fingers struggled to find their way on the screen. Finally he found what he was looking for. He walked over and perched himself on the armrest of Aziraphale’s chair. “This guy is one of the top male belly dancers in the world. In the <em>world</em>, angel,” Crowley repeated, pressing play on a video and handing the phone. “Take a good look.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale watched the dancer, intrigued. There was no doubt that he was very good, but at the same time his whole style of dancing was very different from Crowley’s. And he was chubby. There was no doubt about it, that belly dancer had a definite belly, and he was adorable. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile.</p>
<p>“See?” Crowley said. “He’s built like you, and people queue to watch him dance.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale gave a little giggle. “Well, he is rather cute.”</p>
<p>“Not half as cute as you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale started, and turned to look at Crowley, wide-eyed. Crowley clamped a hand over his mouth. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to say that out loud.”</p>
<p>“It’s quite alright,” Aziraphale said. “Just... unexpected. Not the kind of thing I hear often.” <em>Or ever, really</em>, his treacherous mind supplied.</p>
<p>“Well, you are,” Crowley said. “Cute, that is. Surprised you don’t hear it all the time, if I’m honest.”</p>
<p>“You really think so?” Aziraphale was sceptical, to say the least.</p>
<p>“Yeah, ‘course,” Crowley said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Prettiest thing ever to walk into my dance studio.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale didn’t know whether to laugh or argue, so he settled for freezing, just staring at Crowley in disbelief.</p>
<p>“I mean, it, angel,” Crowley said softly, holding eye contact, something inscrutable dancing in his eyes.</p>
<p>“Crowley...” was all Aziraphale could manage in a broken sort of voice.</p>
<p>Crowley looked at him, licked his lips nervously, leaned in...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And fell off the chair, keeping his balance on the narrow perch proving to be too much for his tipsy body.</p>
<p>He landed on the floor with an undignified yelp, and Aziraphale burst out laughing. Crowley shot him a scowl, but it lasted all of two seconds before he also started laughing.</p>
<p>“Christ, maybe I’ve had enough wine for one night,” he managed in-between giggles.</p>
<p>The realisation sobered Aziraphale. Of course, they’d been drinking. Why else would Crowley have been saying such lovely things.</p>
<p>“Yes, quite,” he agreed. “Perhaps that’s enough for one night. Don’t want to suffer for it tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“Um. I’ll be off, then,” Crowley said, getting up and gathering his things.</p>
<p>Aziraphale walked him to the exit. “Thank you for the visit, Crowley,” he said as he unlocked and opened the door. “I had a very enjoyable time tonight.”</p>
<p>“Me too, angel,” he grinned. Before Aziraphale could respond, Crowley brought one hand to his shoulder and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.</p>
<p>By the time Aziraphale regained control of his faculties, Crowley was on the sidewalk, waving over his shoulder with a cheery “See ya Tuesday, angel!” Aziraphale could only nod as he waved back.</p>
<p>He closed and locked the door, and leaned back against it. A hand came up to his cheek, fingertips gently brushing the spot that Crowley had kissed. <em>Well, fuck.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<h3>Footnotes</h3>
<p><a id="note4" name="note4"></a>[4] The Nutella thing is basically a ring of pizza dough, stuffed with Nutella and ricotta. It looks heavenly and I would totally eat it instead of dinner. It’s on the bottom of <a href="https://www.pizzapilgrims.co.uk/2017/10/our-pizzas/">this page</a>, if you’re curious. <sup>[<a href="#return4">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
<p><a id="note5" name="note5"></a>[5] What poem was he reading? I’m glad you asked. <a href="https://hellopoetry.com/poem/9927/love-sonnet-xi/">https://hellopoetry.com/poem/9927/love-sonnet-xi/</a> Aziraphale vehemently denies that he was reading this with a certain redheaded dance instructor in mind, no sir, not him. <sup>[<a href="#return5">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The dancer Crowley shows Aziraphale is Azad Kaan: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yU1-JEh36bY">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yU1-JEh36bY</a>. Please look at the video. He is chubby and adorable, and exactly what I imagine Az would look like belly dancing.</p>
<p>And another one, because he's just too adorable: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RY1mpncl598">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RY1mpncl598</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Famished</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anathema is determined to set these two idiots up.<br/>More dancing and staring and eating and gazing longingly and...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley counted the days to Tuesday, and then counted the hours until Aziraphale’s class would start. He was being ridiculous, he knew it, but the three days since he’d last seen the man felt like an eternity. They’d exchanged a few texts in the interim, but it wasn’t the same.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He beamed when the man in question walked into the studio at five minutes to the hour. “Hiya, angel,” he greeted him, grinning fit to burst. He got a warm smile and a “Hello, Crowley,” in return.</p>
<p>“Hello to you too,” Anathema interjected, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, just kiss already,” she muttered as she passed between them.</p>
<p>Aziraphale turned a most fetching shade of pink. “Ignore her,” he murmured. “She doesn’t know when to shut up.”</p>
<p>“Or does she?” Crowley just shot him a wink, noting with glee the way it seemed to fluster the other man.</p>
<p>“Hush, you fiend,” Aziraphale said, and moved off to take his place for the class.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The hour passed enjoyably enough, with Crowley managing to keep his staring just on this side of ridiculously obvious. More than once, though, he had looked over to Aziraphale to find the man immediately averting his eyes in an embarrassed sort of way. It seemed he was not the only one staring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dinner?” Crowley asked Aziraphale and Anathema after the class had wrapped up.</p>
<p>Anathema looked from Aziraphale to Crowley and back again, before responding, “Nope, sorry, I have plans already. But you guys go ahead.”</p>
<p>“How about it, angel?” Crowley asked, turning to Aziraphale.</p>
<p>“Dinner sounds lovely,” he responded with a smile.</p>
<p>“Great. I’m off then.” Anathema gave Aziraphale a hug and whispered something in his ear that caused him to laugh and swat at her. Crowley just got a wave and a wink as she left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, what are you in the mood for?” Aziraphale asked once they were alone.</p>
<p>Crowley considered his options for about 0.4 seconds before deciding that he might as well take his chances.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you come over to mine? I’ll cook something, and I’m sure I have some decent wine too.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose, dear boy,” Aziraphale said. Well, it wasn’t a refusal.</p>
<p>“It’s not imposing if I invite you,” Crowley insisted. “Besides, I spent half of Saturday drinking your wine.”</p>
<p>“Well, if you’re certain...”</p>
<p>“I am. Come on, let’s go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale followed Crowley out to his car, which turned out to be a sleek black vintage thing. He considered asking Crowley to go past his place so that he could have a quick shower and change his clothes, but before he could do so Crowley pulled into the road, and he rather lost his train of thought. The man drove like a demon, and after about thirty seconds Aziraphale decided he’d rather just close his eyes and hang on until they got there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, that was exciting,” he said weakly when they finally came to a stop. “Remind me to walk next time.”</p>
<p>Crowley just laughed and got out of the car. He led the way to the lift, and Aziraphale followed, regretting the fact that he hadn’t had a chance to change out of his exercise clothes. It was hardly flattering attire, even when he wasn’t all flushed and sweaty from dancing. Doubly so next to Crowley, who looked like sex on legs whatever he was wearing. (Or not wearing? No, best not to think about that right now.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He followed Crowley into his flat. It turned out to be the complete antithesis of his own place: modern and minimalistic, all done up in shades of grey, like something out of one of those modern design magazines.</p>
<p>Crowley wandered over to the open-plan kitchen, taking out two wine glasses and setting them down on the breakfast nook. A bit more rummaging, and he handed Aziraphale a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. “You open this so long; I’m just going to have a quick shower and change out of these sweaty clothes.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale took the bottle with a nod. He managed to get the cork out and had a taste. Hmm, not bad. He heard the shower starting up, and his lizard brain unhelpfully supplied an image of Cowley, naked and dripping in the next room. <em>Behave!</em> He scolded himself and took another large sip of wine.</p>
<p>He decided to have a look around the living room to distract himself. While he was admiring the extensive record collection on the shelves that occupied one whole wall, Crowley reappeared, dressed in soft grey tracksuit bottoms and a black t-shirt featuring a band Aziraphale only vaguely recognised. His hair was hanging loose for the first time since Aziraphale had met him. It was longer than he had expected, reaching down below his shoulders. Aziraphale wanted to touch it, wondered if it would feel as silky as it looked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did you want to have a shower, angel?” Crowley asked. “Sorry, didn’t even think to stop at your place. But I’m sure I could find you a clean t-shirt, at least.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale considered for a moment. It would be nice to wash away the sweat from their exercise, and perhaps a cold shower would help get his errant thoughts under control.</p>
<p>“That sounds lovely, actually,” he responded.</p>
<p>Crowley managed to find an oversized t-shirt, which he handed to Aziraphale with a fluffy grey towel before gesturing to the bathroom.</p>
<p>“There’s soap and shampoo in the shower, everything else in the cabinet. Use whatever you need.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, dear,” Aziraphale said, and made his way to the bathroom.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley decided to make a start on dinner while Aziraphale was showering. He chopped some onions and bacon, opened some tinned tomatoes, and had a simple pasta sauce simmering away by the time the other man emerged from the bathroom.</p>
<p>“Feeling better?” he asked, glancing over at Aziraphale. Good thing he’d finished the question before his gaze fell on Aziraphale, really, because seeing the other man in one of his shirts quite literally left him speechless. Baggy as it was on him, the shirt fitted snugly on Aziraphale’s body, showing every curve and crease. <em>Fuck.</em></p>
<p>“Much better, thank you,” he said, giving Crowley one of those smiles that felt like sunrise. Aziraphale was flushed from the heat of the shower, his still-damp curls sticking up every which way. Crowley wondered if he’d look like that after...</p>
<p>
  <em>Double fuck. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Get a grip on yourself!</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Aziraphale walked up to the stove, leaning over the pot and sniffing appreciatively. “Hmm, smells good. What’s for dinner?”</p>
<p>“Just a simple pasta, nothing fancy,” said Crowley.</p>
<p>“Sounds marvellous,” said Aziraphale. “What can I do to help?”</p>
<p>“Nothing really. That needs to simmer for a bit, and then we just have to boil up some penne. Why don’t you go pick out some music for us?”</p>
<p>“Oh, my dear boy, I would be useless at that!” Aziraphale laughed. “Unless you feel like Beethoven or Mozart, I think you’d better choose.”</p>
<p>“So, no death metal, then?” he asked teasingly.</p>
<p>“I have no idea what that is, but it sounds ghastly.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the end, Crowley put on Sinatra, figuring that it was a reasonable compromise between their tastes. They ate at the breakfast nook, chatting happily over pasta and wine. Crowley felt happier than he had in a long time.</p>
<p>“Oh, my dear, you have a bit of sauce,” Aziraphale pointed to his own cheek. Crowley swiped at his cheek, trying to get at it, but missing every time.</p>
<p>“Oh, come here, you silly,” said Aziraphale, leaning over and swiping the offending droplet away with his thumb. The simple touch sent a jolt of electricity down Crowley’s spine.</p>
<p>He grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist before he could pull it away, and brought it around to his mouth.</p>
<p>“Crowley?” asked Aziraphale, uncertainty in his voice.</p>
<p>“Can I?” Crowley glanced at Aziraphale’s thumb, and got a rather bewildered nod in reply.</p>
<p>Slowly, watching Aziraphale carefully in case he was making a huge mistake, he brought the sauce-stained digit up, pressing it gently to his lips. He darted his tongue out, carefully licking up the sauce, watching Aziraphale’s eyes flutter closed at the contact. Emboldened by this reaction, he opened his lips slightly and pulled the tip of Aziraphale’s thumb into his mouth, sucking and licking gently. And God, Aziraphale let out such a <em>sound.</em> The Nutella dessert show was positively tame in comparison.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale wondered whether it was possible to die from sheer arousal. Crowley’s lips against his thumb had given him goosebumps; the gentle lick of his tongue had sent shivers up his spine. But when the other man had sucked his finger into his mouth, it had set his whole body on fire, and he hadn’t been able to stop the mortifying moan that slipped from his mouth.</p>
<p>Almost immediately , he was flooded with embarrassment. He opened his eyes and looked over to Crowley to apologise for his inappropriate behaviour, but what he saw stole his breath away. Crowley was staring at him intently, pupils blown wide.</p>
<p>“Crowley...” he managed, voice barely audible.</p>
<p>Crowley released his finger, but didn’t let go of his hand.</p>
<p>“Angel.” His voice was husky, smouldering with.... something. “I really, really wanna kiss you right now.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale closed his eyes, drew a shuddering breath. His hand moved around to cradle Crowley’s cheek, and he breathed a single word:</p>
<p>
  <em>“Please.”</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For the keen student, here is a fun little video on the history of belly dance: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1JkKLw4w8M">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1JkKLw4w8M</a> <br/>The person who made this video is my belly dance instructor and also a dear friend; you can see her dance at several places during the video. Go check out some of her videos on her YouTube channel, she is ridiculously good.<br/>Also, if you look very closely, I feature for a split second at 14:06 XD</p>
<p> </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Tasting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>*Finally* they kiss!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale’s whispered <em>“please”</em> was all the invitation Crowley needed. He slid from his chair and rounded the breakfast nook in one smooth movement, bringing himself nose-to-nose with the angel. He was still gathering his wits when Aziraphale leaned up and pressed their lips together, and <em>oh yesss. </em>His mouth felt as soft as it looked. No, softer. Crowley brought one hand to the back of Aziraphale’s head, threading his fingers through blonde curls, the other hand resting against his padded side. It was all so gloriously <em>soft</em>. He remembered having his hands on Aziraphale’s hips a week ago, and this time he didn’t resist the urge to dig his fingers into that wonderful plushness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale twitched, giving a giggling yelp. “That tickles!”</p>
<p>“Oh?” asked Crowley with an evil grin. And then he brought both hands around to wriggle his fingertips against Aziraphale’s ribs, soon reducing the man to a panting, laughing mess. It was infectious, and Crowley was soon laughing almost as hard as Aziraphale.</p>
<p>“Mercy!” Aziraphale gasped in between fits of giggles. “I yield! You win!”</p>
<p>“Do I, now?” Crowley chuckled, letting up on the tickling. “And what’s my prize?”</p>
<p>“Whatever you’d like it to be,” Aziraphale answered coquettishly.</p>
<p>Well, now, if he was gonna be such a tease...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley grabbed his face, a hand on each side of his head, and smashed their mouths together. It was a bit overenthusiastic, and their teeth met with a clack before they figured out how to slot their lips together properly, but once they did, it was heaven. For a few moments, Crowley lost himself in the sensation, still holding Aziraphale’s face  firmly between his hands and kissing him like it was all he had ever wanted to do in his life. Perhaps it was.</p>
<p>“Mmpf,” said Aziraphale, eloquently, and Crowley drew away to the side just enough to let him speak, nuzzling at his cheek.</p>
<p>“Wassat?”</p>
<p>“I said, I thought you were supposed to be the one getting a prize.” Aziraphale sounded a little breathless.</p>
<p>“Oh, believe me, I am,” Crowley murmured happily, and moved in for another kiss.</p>
<p>“Best.” Kiss.</p>
<p>“Fucking.” Kiss.</p>
<p>“Prize.” Kiss.</p>
<p>“Ever.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale was overwhelmed by sensation. Crowley’s lips, his touch, his words. He ran curious hands up and down Crowley’s back, feeling the muscles shifting under his shirt. Oh, yes, he’d been dreaming of this, and the dream didn’t hold a candle to the reality.</p>
<p>He slid one hand up Crowley’s back, up his neck, until he was cradling the back of his head. Those crimson locks were, indeed, as silky as they looked, slipping between his fingers like satin. He circled his fingertips against Crowley’s scalp and felt the other man shudder. <em>Oh, we like that, do we? </em>Aziraphale thought. He ran his hand through the length of Crowley’s hair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, that was the theory. Unfortunately, his fingers had gotten a bit tangled, and it ended up being more of a pull. Crowley’s knees buckled, and he slumped against Aziraphale.</p>
<p>“Oh, oh dear, I’m sorry!” Aziraphale stuttered, horrified that he’d somehow managed to yank on Crowley’s hair like a... a playground bully.</p>
<p>“Fuck, angel,” gasped Crowley from where he was leaning against Aziraphale’s chest. “If you’re gonna be doing stuff like that, we’d better move this to the sofa, or I’ll end up on the floor.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale looked down at Crowley – his face was flushed, and his eyes were alight with... desire? Aziraphale let his gaze drop a little further down. Yes, definitely desire. Interesting...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh?” he said, putting on his best innocent voice, “Whatever do you mean?”</p>
<p>He carded his hands through Crowley’s hair again, being sure to tug at it ever so gently. He was rewarded with a moan of pure pleasure.</p>
<p>“Fuck. Be the death of me, you will,” Crowley managed. He grabbed Aziraphale by the hand and dragged him over to the living room. Once there, he flopped down on the sofa and immediately pulled Aziraphale down next to him.</p>
<p>“Now, where were we?” he murmured, before reclaiming Aziraphale’s mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For all Crowley’s sexy swagger, the kiss was surprisingly chaste, just lips moving gently against each other, careful hands skimming over Aziraphale’s back, his sides, his hips.</p>
<p>As wonderful as it was, though, Aziraphale wanted more; wanted to <em>taste.</em> He parted his lips the smallest bit, just enough to be noticeable – a question, an invitation.</p>
<p>The invitation was immediately and enthusiastically accepted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Crowley gasped when he felt Aziraphale’s mouth opening against his. He let the tip of his tongue dart out and brush against Aziraphale’s plump lower lip – oh <em>fuck</em> what a wonderful sensation that was – and was stunned when Aziraphale deepened the kiss further almost immediately.  He fisted his hand in Aziraphale’s shirt, pulling him closer, trying to press their chests together. It was a little awkward, sitting side-by-side as they were, so Crowley shifted around until he was straddling Aziraphale’s lap.</p>
<p>Aziraphale’s hand had found its way into his hair again, scratching lightly, and Crowley leaned into the touch like a cat. Aziraphale took advantage of his movement to trail his mouth along Crowley’s cheek, his jaw, his neck. “Oh Crowley,” he breathed in-between kisses, “You are so exquisite...”</p>
<p>“<em>Fuck</em>, angel,” he groaned.</p>
<p>“Well. Erm. Maybe not tonight?” Aziraphale answered, hesitantly.</p>
<p>Crowley had to chuckle at that response. “I wasn’t suggesting anything, angel.”</p>
<p>“Oh...” Was that a note of disappointment in his voice?</p>
<p>“Wait, no, that came out wrong.” Crowley brought a hand up to Aziraphale’s cheek. “I mean, I’d love to. Fuck, that is. You, specifically. Very, very much. But doesn’t have to be now.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” this time it was said with a slight smile. “Well, that’s very... decent of you. I’m not really the type for one-night stands. Although sometimes it feels like I’m the only gay man in London not up for that sort of thing.” Aziraphale gave a self-deprecating laugh.</p>
<p>“Oh, angel,” Crowley said with a smile. “I’m definitely not just here for one night.” He leaned in brush the tip of his nose against Aziraphale’s jaw. “Want to keep you around as long as I can. We can go at any speed you like. Fuck, Aziraphale, just kissing you – it’s blowing my goddamn mind. Could kiss you forever.” He was nuzzling in to Aziraphale’s neck as he spoke, pressing open-mouthed kisses on the soft skin every time he paused, revelling in every gasp and stifled moan he could pull from him. “So soft. So sweet. So delicious.” He placed his open mouth on Aziraphale’s throat, licked against his pulse.</p>
<p>“Crowley!” Aziraphale squeaked</p>
<p>“Hmmm?”</p>
<p>“If you don’t get your mouth back on mine, I swear-“</p>
<p>Aziraphale didn’t get a chance to finish his threat, because he suddenly had a mouth full of Crowley. Neither raised any complaint.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They kissed and kissed, hands roaming across chests and backs and sides, tongues exploring each other’s mouths until they were quite out of breath. Crowley was grateful he’d opted for loose sweatpants rather than his usual tight jeans, and a covert glance told him Aziraphale was in much the same position.</p>
<p>“Angel,” he managed in-between kisses. “If you don’t want to fuck me or kill me, we may have to call it a night.”</p>
<p>Aziraphale looked up at him, cheeks flushed. “Perhaps you’re right, dear,” he conceded. “You’re far too tempting for my own good.”</p>
<p>“Drop you off at home?” Crowley offered.</p>
<p>“Thank you, dearest, you’re too kind.” Aziraphale smiled.</p>
<p>Crowley gave him a last lingering kiss before getting up off the sofa. “Let’s go then, angel,” he said, holding out a hand to help Aziraphale up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale didn’t keep his eyes closed on the ride back home. No, this time he was unashamedly staring at the man next to him, still not quite able to believe that he’d spent the evening snogging him senseless. Crowley noticed him staring once, flashed him a grin and took his hand, intertwining their fingers. The next time he had to change gears, in stead of just letting go, Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and placed it on his thigh before moving his own hand away to the gear lever. Aziraphale squeezed the lean muscle under his hand, almost giggling at the way Crowley’s breath hitched at the pressure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At the bookshop, Crowley helped him out of the car and kissed him goodnight, very thoroughly, against the door of the shop. Just when Aziraphale was sure he was about to have an aneurysm (or, alternatively, grab the lanky dancer and drag him off to bed), Crowley pulled away.</p>
<p>“If I don’t leave now, angel, I never will.” Crowley was sounding just as breathless as Aziraphale felt.</p>
<p>“Quite,” he responded, and gave Crowley a last peck. “Thank you for tonight, my dear. It was... perfect.”</p>
<p>“That it was, angel,” Crowley beamed. “I’ll text you,” he said, and blew a last kiss before he got into his car and set off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Back upstairs, Aziraphale noticed he had a message on his phone.</p>
<p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Received 20:54; Anathema) – so how was dinner? ;)</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Sent 23:18; Anathema) – Delicious. Crowley made us a lovely pasta.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Received 23:20; Anathema) – that’s not what I was asking and you know it!</p>
  <p>(Received 23:20; Anathema) – wait, you went to his place?</p>
  <p>(Received 23:20; Anathema) – details!!!</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Sent 23:21; Anathema) – Details? Well, his flat is very fancy and modern, if a little spartan for my tastes.</p>
  <p>(Sent 23:21; Anathema) – His shower is like something from a high-end spa.</p>
  <p>(Sent 23:21; Anathema) – He has more records than I can count.</p>
  <p>(Sent 23:21; Anathema) – His couch is very sleek but rather uncomfortable.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Received 23:22; Anathema) – ZIRA!!!</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Sent 23:23; Anathema) – And he’s an excellent kisser.</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Received 23:24; Anathema) – OMG!!!</p>
  <p>(Received 23:24; Anathema) – I’m coming over for breakfast tomorrow</p>
</blockquote><p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>(Received 23:31; Crowley) – sleep tight angel xx</p>
</blockquote>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If anyone is interested in seeing Aziraphale do the can-can in a rainbow tutu, such a thing now exists: <a href="https://sani-86.tumblr.com/post/619350616500797440/something-in-the-mans-whole-demeanour">https://sani-86.tumblr.com/post/619350616500797440/something-in-the-mans-whole-demeanour</a>.</p>
<p> </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Savouring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>More thirsting, more suggestive eating, more kissing...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note rating change to M!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley didn’t see Aziraphale again until Saturday, although they texted each other constantly, spending hours on long meandering conversations about the most arbitrary topics. Funny, that; Crowley wasn’t usually much of a conversationalist, but somehow the two of them never ran out of things to talk about. They talked a lot of nonsense, true, but it was... nice.</p><p> </p><p>Nice as it all was,  Crowley was dying to see his angel again, to hold him, to kiss him. So on Saturday, after finishing his morning classes, he made his way to the bookshop. They had agreed to spend the afternoon together, although they hadn’t yet made any specific plans.</p><p>“Hiya angel!” he said as he walked through the bookshop door. A customer browsing in the front area of the store gave him a quizzical look, but Aziraphale was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>“Angel?” he called out, a bit louder.</p><p>“Back here, dearest,” came Aziraphale’s voice from somewhere in the maze of shelves. “Be out in a minute.”</p><p>Crowley set off to find him, prowling through the shelves, straining his ears for any sound that would lead him to Aziraphale. He followed the sound of paper rustling and books thumping gently against shelves, until he finally rounded a bookcase and came up behind Aziraphale, who was busy unpacking a box of books. He was standing with his back to Crowley, seemingly unaware of the latter’s arrival, looking intently at the book in his hand. Crowley crept up behind him as silently as he could, until he was close enough to grab Aziraphale from behind with a triumphant “Gotcha!”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale jumped up in shock, dropping the book he was holding.</p><p>“You fiend!” he scolded, bending to pick up the book. “Look what you made me do.”</p><p>Crowley was looking alright, admiring the way Aziraphale’s trousers outlined the curves of his bum and thighs as he bent down.</p><p>“Lucky for you this isn’t anything valuable, or I would be very cross indeed.” Aziraphale straightened up, slotting the book into its position on the shelf.</p><p>“Sorry, angel,” Crowley said contritely. “Didn’t mean to hurt your books. Let me make it up to you, hm?” He held out his arms, and Aziraphale stepped into them with a happy little sigh, tilting his face up to smile at Crowley.</p><p>Crowley wasted no time in pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s. <em>Oh, yes. This.</em></p><p>“Missed, you, angel,” he murmured in between kisses.</p><p>“Hmm, me too, darling,” Aziraphale whispered.</p><p>“Missed you so much,” Crowley continued, pulling Aziraphale into a close hug and nuzzling into his hair. “Missed holding you. Missed kissing you.”</p><p>Aziraphale pulled back slightly, leaned up for another soft kiss. “Oh, me too, believe me.”</p><p> </p><p>The jingling of the doorbell reminded them that they were, in fact, still standing in an open retail establishment.</p><p>“Let me just go close up,” Aziraphale said, pulling away and walking to the front. Crowley followed, like the besotted puppy that he was.</p><p>“What do you wanna do today?” He asked.</p><p>“How about we go get some lunch?” Aziraphale suggested.</p><p> </p><p>The weather was truly lovely, so they ended up getting walking to St. James’ park, having lunch in the café there. Afterwards, they wandered around the lake hand-in-hand, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company.</p><p>“Oh, look!” said Aziraphale, pointing to an ice-cream vendor. “Let’s get a cone!”</p><p>Of course, Crowley wouldn’t refuse his angel anything, so he got a choc-99 for Aziraphale and a cherry lolly for himself.</p><p>Crowley watched as Aziraphale pulled the flake out of the cone and licked the ice cream off it, wrapping his lips around the tip to catch the last few drops before biting into it. <em>Fuck, was he doing that on purpose?</em>  Crowley bit into his own ice-cream in a bid to distract himself, and cursed inwardly as the brain freeze hit him. Oh well, at east it gave him something else to focus on. It didn’t work for long, though; not with Aziraphale right next to him, pretty pink tongue darting out to lick at the ice cream.</p><p>Aziraphale must have noticed his staring. “Do you want a taste?” he asked, holding the cone out to Crowley.</p><p>“Sure,” said Crowley, but rather than the proffered cone, he brought his lips to Aziraphale’s, licking into his mouth, chasing the sweet vanilla taste.</p><p>“Delicious,” he said when he pulled back.</p><p>Aziraphale giggled. “Me or the ice cream?” he asked coyly.</p><p>Crowley took a bite of the ice cream this time, rolling it around in his mouth thoughtfully. “Hmm. Ice cream’s good, but you’re better,” he said. This earned him another kiss.</p><p> </p><p>They wandered around St James’ until the sun started going down and the evening chill started creeping in, driving them back to the bookshop. This time, however, Aziraphale led them up the stairs to his flat, which turned out to be just as cozily cluttered as the bookshop below. Crowley was pleased to discover that Aziraphale had a genuine vintage record player, although the most modern music in his collection seemed to be a couple of Vera Lynn records, and even that stood out between the Mozart and Bach.</p><p>“White or red?” Aziraphale asked from the kitchen, where he’d gone to get a bottle of wine</p><p>“Red, I think,” Crowley responded. “White always gives me a headache.”</p><p>Before long, Aziraphale reappeared with a bottle of merlot and two glasses. “May I?” Crowley asked, holding up one of the records.</p><p>“Go ahead,” Aziraphale answered.</p><p> </p><p>Soft piano music filled the air. Crowley made his way over to the sofa where Aziraphale was sitting and made himself at home next to him. Aziraphale was humming along to the tune, swaying from side to side with the gentle rhythm, a happy little smile on his face. He was looking so absolutely adorable that Crowley simply had to kiss him.</p><p> </p><p><em>I'm in the mood for love, simply because you're near me, </em>Vera was singing in the background; <em>Funny, but when you're near me, I'm in the mood for love.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“Dearest, can I ask you something?” Aziraphale asked after a while.</p><p>“Sure, anything.”</p><p>“That first time you visited me here, you remember? You were showing me that video, and then you fell off the chair?”</p><p>Crowley chuckled at the memory. “Course I remember, it was just a week ago.”</p><p>“Hm, so it was. Seems longer somehow.” Aziraphale’s voice turned thoughtful.</p><p>“Your question?” Crowley prompted.</p><p>“Oh, yes. Before you fell off the chair, were you... did you want to kiss me?”</p><p>“Oh, angel,” Crowley chuckled. “I wanted to kiss you about twenty minutes into that first trial class. I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re the prettiest thing ever to walk into my studio.”</p><p>Aziraphale looked down shyly. “You really meant it, then. It wasn’t just the wine talking.”</p><p>“That amount of wine? No, my beautiful angel, it was just enough to give me the courage to say what I was thinking; what I had been thinking since the very first time I saw you.”</p><p>“<em>In vino veritas,</em>” Aziraphale murmured, thoughtfully.</p><p>“Exactly,” Crowley agreed, clinking his glass against Aziraphale’s playfully and taking a generous sip. “And right now, the <em>veritas</em> in this <em>vino</em> is that I really want another kiss, ASAP.”</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale groaned at Crowley’s butchering of the Latin, but he complied happily, kissing Crowley until he was dizzy with it. By the sound of Aziraphale’s ragged breathing, he was just as affected.</p><p>“What about you, angel,” he asked when he pulled back for a breath. “Any truths you need to get off your chest?”</p><p>“Oh, plenty,” Aziraphale said, “But I’ll need rather more wine first.” He took a thoughtful sip.</p><p>“Although,” Aziraphale continued. “There is one thing I’ve been wondering about.” He ran his fingertips up from Crowley’s right wrist, pushing the sleeve of his henley up as he went, until the head of his snake tattoo was peeking out. The gentle, almost tickling touch was giving Crowley goosebumps.</p><p>“Yeah?” he asked.</p><p>Aziraphale ran his thumb along the tattooed snake’s head. “Tell me, if you will... How far does this go?”</p><p>Crowley chuckled and turned around, lifting the back of his shirt to expose the tail of the snake on his lower back. “All the way around and down,” he said. He was struck by a mischievous idea. “Wanna see?”</p><p>“Please,” Aziraphale breathed, desire obvious in his voice. Crowley pulled his shirt off without hesitating, still sitting with his back half-turned.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow,” Aziraphale whispered, running his fingers along the snake as it coiled up Crowley’s arm, across his shoulder, looping across his back. “It’s beautiful. <em>You’re </em>beautiful.”</p><p>The open adoration in Aziraphale’s voice was too much for Crowley, and he turned around to claim his angel’s mouth. Aziraphale kissed back hungrily, his hands roaming over Crowley’s naked torso, exploring every inch of skin. When the pad of one thumb brushed over a nipple, Crowley keened, desire flaring through him.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel, please,” he begged, tugging at Aziraphale’s shirt, desperately seeking skin. Aziraphale seemed to understand what he was asking for, because he leaned back, quickly unbuttoning his waistcoat and slipping it off, laying it carefully on the coffee table. The bow tie came off next, followed by the button-up shirt, both carefully folded and placed aside, and Crowley nearly laughed when he saw that Aziraphale was wearing an undershirt too. He was like a matryoshka doll, each layer coming off only to reveal another layer beneath. Some sort of infinite regression of layers, a painstaking striptease designed to drive Crowley out of his mind.</p><p>Even though very little blood was going anywhere near his brain, Crowley didn’t miss the way Aziraphale hesitated with his hands on the hem of his undershirt.</p><p>“Angel, are you sure this is okay for you?” he asked, concerned. “You don’t have to go any faster than you’re comfortable with.”</p><p>“Are <em>you</em> sure?” Aziraphale retorted, not looking him in the eye. Oh, so it was that again, was it?</p><p>“Surer than I’ve been in my whole fucking life, angel,” he responded. “I’m not going to force you to do anything, you know that, but <em>God</em>,  I would love to see you without that shirt.”</p><p>This seemed to give Aziraphale the courage he needed, because he pulled the shirt over his head in one fluid movement.</p><p>“Ngk,” Crowley managed, and swallowed hard. “Fuck, angel,” he said, reaching out a tentative hand. “You’re... glorious.” A second hand joined the first, stroking across creamy skin, pressing into the soft curves that made up that heavenly body. “Every bit as beautiful as I’d dreamed,” he said, reverently.</p><p> </p><p>The next thing Crowley knew, he had two armfuls of angel, and Aziraphale was kissing him as if his life depended on it. There was something new in the way Aziraphale pressed their mouths together, something hungry and possessive. Crowley let himself be drawn in until he was once again sitting on Aziraphale’s lap, knees on either side of his thighs. Careful, not wanting to push things too far too fast, Crowley tried to keep a bit of distance between them. Aziraphale was having none of it. He ran his hands down Crowley’s back, slid them all the way down to his arse, and pulled him in until the length of their torsos was pressed together.</p><p>Oh. OH. This close, there was no doubting Aziraphale’s state of arousal. Crowley felt his head swim at the hardness pressing against him, knew that Aziraphale could surely feel him too. He forced himself to pull away while he still had a tiny bit of self-control left.</p><p>“Angel,” he whispered. “What are – do you – mnghh –“ Aziraphale was trailing open-mouthed kisses along his neck, making it impossible to form a coherent thought.</p><p>Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s chin with one hand, turning his face so they their eyes met.</p><p>“What do you want, angel? How far do you want this to go? Because you are driving me <em>crazy</em>.” He ground into Aziraphale’s plush tummy ever so gently, just to make his point clear.</p><p>“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned at the movement. “I want you, darling. I want to see you, all of you, to let you see me. I want to touch you, want to make you feel good.”</p><p>“<em>Fuck, </em>Aziraphale,” Crowley growled. “Yes. Yes, <em>please.</em>”</p><p>Aziraphale’s hand skirted around the top of his trousers, one finger slipping in behind the fabric to trace teasingly along the elastic of his underpants. When a fingertip brushed against his tip, Crowley let out a sound that he previously thought only cats could make.</p><p>“Shall we take this to bed, darling?” Aziraphale whispered in his ear.</p><p> </p><p><em>Yours ‘til the stars lose their glory, </em> Vera was still singing; <em>Yours ‘til the birds fail to sing; Yours to the end of life’s story, this pledge to you dear I bring. </em></p><p>
  <em>Yours in the grey of December, here or on far distant shores. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. How could I, when I was born to be just yours.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The Aziraphale-taking-his-shirt-off matryoshka doll? Got you covered: <a href="https://sani-86.tumblr.com/post/619457663273762816/aziraphale-taking-off-his-shirt-in-chapter-7-of">https://sani-86.tumblr.com/post/619457663273762816/aziraphale-taking-off-his-shirt-in-chapter-7-of</a></p><p>Songs in this chapter (Both by Vera Lynn):</p><p>I’m in the mood for love:</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cb-ZNuFDH1E&amp;list=PL4li8zEMKysSWbZoUfpoMas_o0jB1sUkM&amp;index=35">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cb-ZNuFDH1E&amp;list=PL4li8zEMKysSWbZoUfpoMas_o0jB1sUkM&amp;index=35</a></p><p> </p><p>Yours: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onH-WTVQGsg&amp;list=PL4li8zEMKysSWbZoUfpoMas_o0jB1sUkM&amp;index=20">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=onH-WTVQGsg&amp;list=PL4li8zEMKysSWbZoUfpoMas_o0jB1sUkM&amp;index=20</a></p><p> </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Luxuriating</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Some lovely sweet fluffy smut. Pure indulgence.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So... this is the first time I'm writing anything remotely explicit. I wasn't exactly planning on it when I started this, but these boys had there own ideas, so... *shrugs*</p>
<p>This would 100% not have happened if UlsPi wasn't <strike>enabling my obsession</strike> cheering me on - so thank them if you like it!</p>
<p>Note rating change to EEEEEEEE!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale woke up the unfamiliar warmth of a body pressed against his back; an arm draped over his side. Ah, yes; Crowley. He grinned to himself as he closed his eyes and snuggled down, remembering the previous night.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had never done this before; had never invited a man to his bed and asked them to stay the night. He wasn’t entirely inexperienced, <em>per se</em>, but he was shy and careful. His lovers had been few and far between, and he had never felt comfortable enough to let any of them into his most private spaces like this.</p>
<p>But then, he mused, he had never met anyone like Crowley before. He had been nervous and self-conscious, not used to being half-naked in the company of someone else, much less someone as perfectly beautiful as Crowley. He didn’t exactly dislike his own body, but he couldn’t help feeling self-conscious at how it compared to Crowley’s lean, muscled form. It had taken all the courage he could muster to pull his shirt off.</p>
<p>And then...</p>
<p>Even now, the memory of Crowley’s expression sent a delightful little shiver down his spine. The awe in his voice, the reverence in his touch, the naked <em>hunger</em> in his eyes had flipped a switch in Aziraphale’s mind. In a flash of insight, he understood that he was <em>wanted</em>; that Crowley desired him as much as he desired Crowley, and that had been enough to shatter the last of his inhibitions.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They had made their way from the sofa to the bedroom, kissing and shedding clothes as they went, until they were standing by the side of Aziraphale’s bed, naked and entirely unashamed. For a moment, Crowley just stood with his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders, looking him up and down.</p>
<p>“Oh angel, you’re breathtaking,” he said, and Aziraphale believed him; could see the honesty in his eyes. He sank back on to the bed, pulling Crowley down on top of him, pressing their bodies together and capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss. They stayed there for several minutes, tongues entangling and hands exploring each other’s bodies.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, Crowley broke the kiss to move his lips along Aziraphale’s jaw, kissing and nuzzling his way up to his ear. When Crowley sucked on his earlobe, it sent a shiver all down one side of his body. Crowley must have felt his reaction, because he dragged his teeth gently over the lobe, causing Aziraphale to let out a truly lewd sound. <em>Fuck</em>, who would have guessed that earlobes could be so sensitive?</p>
<p>Crowley didn’t let up even for a moment, trailing kisses and nibbles down Aziraphale’s neck. When he reached the place where neck became shoulder, he sucked, hard, just this side of painful. “Crowley!” he gasped.</p>
<p>Crowley pulled back to look at him. “All right, angel?” he asked.</p>
<p>“More than,” Aziraphale managed. “Please don’t stop!”</p>
<p>Crowley gave him a wicked grin before dropping his mouth back down to Aziraphale’s throat.</p>
<p>“Fuck, angel,” he said between kisses. “You’re so incredible. Could kiss you for days.”</p>
<p>His mouth had found a nipple, and he was doing something truly <em>sinful</em> with his tongue. Aziraphale arched his back, moaning shamelessly, pressing into Crowley. The beautiful man kept on licking, sucking, nibbling – first one nipple, then the other, leaving Aziraphale incoherent with pleasure.</p>
<p>“Just look at you, luscious and lovely.” Crowley’s voice was dreamy as he reared up over Aziraphale’s, staring at him with undisguised adoration. His hands squeezed Aziraphale’s hips to emphasise his enjoyment, fingers pressing into the soft flesh. He dropped his mouth to Aziraphale’s belly, kissing and biting. “Could just bury myself here,” Crowley said, voice muffled as he nuzzled around his belly button. “Stay in this bed with you forever.”</p>
<p>“Hmmm, yessss,” Aziraphale moaned. Crowley had made his way even further down, and he was running his nose along the crease where thigh met pelvis.</p>
<p>Crowley tilted his head to look up at Aziraphale. “Can I?” he asked, nudging Aziraphale’s very erect cock with his nose. Aziraphale didn’t trust his voice to do anything at that moment, so he simply nodded wordlessly. It had been... well, way too long, especially since he’d been on the receiving end.</p>
<p>He’d forgotten how amazing it was.</p>
<p>At the first touch of Crowley’s tongue, he let out a yelp, hips jerking uncontrollably and hitting Crowley in the face. “Sorry, oh God, I’m so sorry,” he said, mortified.</p>
<p>“’s okay, angel,” said Crowley, grinning wickedly. “I’ll just have to hold you down.” He placed two strong hands on Aziraphale’s hips, and <em>oh</em>, the strength behind that touch did something to Aziraphale’s insides. He still couldn’t quite stop the spasming of his hips when Crowley returned to his ministrations, but he was held firmly in place – firmly, yet oh so gently. And when Crowley finally wrapped his lips around him and took him deep, deep into that hot mouth... well, Aziraphale’s soul damn near left his body.</p>
<p>An eternity of pleasure and no time at all later he was shuddering out a release that left him breathless and boneless, blissed out in a way he could never remember experiencing before.</p>
<p>Crowley had crawled back up to kiss him, murmuring words of adoration, his hips grinding furiously against Aziraphale. Having regained at least some presence of mind, Aziraphale wrapped a hand around Crowley’s length, moving with him and kissing anything he could reach until Crowley came, gasping his name and digging fingernails into his shoulders.</p>
<p>They lay there, trading lazy kisses and savouring the post-orgasmic haze, until an uncomfortable stickiness forced Aziraphale to the bathroom in search of a washcloth. The necessary ablutions taken care of, he pressed himself up against Crowley’s back, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist. “Will you stay?” he asked, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.</p>
<p>Crowley turned his head to kiss him gently on the lips. “For as long as you’ll let me, angel,” he said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Aziraphale’s thoughts were pulled back to the here and now by Crowley stirring behind him, tightening his grip and nuzzling into Aziraphale’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“M’n’ng ‘ngel,” came his sleepy voice.</p>
<p>“Morning, dearest,” Aziraphale responded fondly, wiggling back to press his back against the lanky man behind him. Oh, hello, what was that?</p>
<p>“Someone’s feeling happy this morning,” Aziraphale teased, pressing his buttocks gently against Crowley’s half-hard cock.</p>
<p>“Hmm, ‘s from sleeping next to an angel,” Crowley murmured into the skin of his neck, rutting lazily against him. Aziraphale gave a little moan at the sensation; his reminiscing had already left him more than a little aroused. Crowley’s fingers were tracing lazy circles on his tummy, touch just firm enough not to tickle. His fingers drifted slowly upward, grazing over one nipple, then the other, never halting their gentle exploration; then moved back down, each slow arc moving a little lower, until his fingertips were just grazing the tip of Aziraphale’s now very erect cock.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, come now, you tease,” Aziraphale huffed, putting his hand over Crowley’s and guiding it down to where he wanted it. He could feel Crowley grinning against his neck.</p>
<p>“Oh, yes,” he sighed, as long fingers wrapped gently around him.</p>
<p>Crowley stroked him slowly, dreamily, in time with the rocking of his hips. He kept up a leisurely pace, never gripping hard enough or moving fast enough to bring Aziraphale to the edge. It was the sweetest imaginable form of torture.</p>
<p>After what felt like an eternity spent in a pink haze of lust, Aziraphale started pushing into Crowley’s hand with more intent. Crowley matched him, tightening his grip and picking up his pace, working Aziraphale <em>just so</em> until he tipped over the edge, Crowley’s name on his lips like a prayer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as he regained control of his muscles, Aziraphale turned himself around, flipping Crowley onto his back and straddling him. He ran a hand through Crowley’s sleep-tousled hair, tugging gently, making the redhead keen.</p>
<p>“You will be the death of me,” he whispered in Crowley’s ear, pausing to nibble on his earlobe and delighting in the shudder this pulled from the other man, “and I can think of no sweeter way to go.”</p>
<p>He kissed his way down Crowley’s neck, his throat, his chest, his abdomen, stopping to pay special attention every time he found a particularly sensitive spot. He hadn’t even gotten to Crowley’s crotch, and the man was a shivering, incoherent mess, cursing and hissing and mumbling random assemblages of consonants. When Aziraphale finally put his mouth on him, Crowley actually shouted out, clamping a pillow over his face so as not to wake the whole neighbourhood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It didn’t take long, Crowley having spent an inordinately long time dancing on the edge of pleasure, before Aziraphale was rewarded with the sight of the most beautiful man he had ever seen coming completely undone under his ministrations. He was certain there had never been a more astonishing sight than Crowley lying in his bed, shattered and sated and absolutely ethereal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They kissed, and dozed, and kissed some more, simply luxuriating in the absolute perfection of being in love. What could possibly be better?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Duet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>They're back in the dance class for this one, but now things are a little different...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, look at that, my dance fic finally has some dancing in it again 😆</p><p>Scheduling note: Not sure if I will update tomorrow. This story has just one more chapter in it, I think. I haven't written it yet... </p><p>On Tuesday I'm starting to post a new story for Good AUmens. It will be *very* different to this one, but I'm very proud of what I have there so far, so please come check it out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunday night, Crowley went back to his own flat. They both realised that they did not at all care for sleeping alone anymore, so on Monday, he was back at Aziraphale’s.</p><p>On Tuesday, Aziraphale drove to the dance class with Anathema; Crowley taught another class at a different studio directly before theirs, otherwise he would most definitely have been the one to pick his boyfriend up.</p><p> </p><p>They arrived at the studio before Crowley did, and found the rest of the girls crowded together, looking at something on one of their phones – a belly dance video, judging by the music.</p><p>“What you got there?” Anathema asked, curious as always.</p><p>“Jen found Crowley on YouTube,” one of the ladies answered. “Check it out.”</p><p>The girl – Jen, presumably – tilted her phone to give them a better view. Aziraphale leaned in next to Anathema, intrigued.</p><p>“Wow, he’s really good, hey?” Anathema said after watching for a while. Aziraphale was inclined to agree, although he personally considered ‘very good’ to be a colossal understatement.</p><p>“Good? Try incredible,” Jen laughed. “Stuff of fantasies.”</p><p>“Oh, yes,” another one of the girls said. “I could certainly fit those hips into my fantasies.”</p><p>“Or my realities,” another giggled. “Hmmm, yummy.”</p><p>Aziraphale squirmed inwardly. He didn’t like these girls talking about Crowley that way, as if he were a piece of meat to be devoured. The fact that he actually <em>was</em> delicious didn’t come into it.</p><p>“Fat chance,” Jen piped up again. “Looking like that? He probably has some super-hot bimbo of a girlfriend, with three more lined up outside his door.”</p><p><em>Hah!</em> Aziraphale thought to himself. <em>Wrong on every count</em>. He could sense Anathema quietly fuming next to him, and he knew she was one inappropriate remark away from an outburst.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, the conversation was interrupted by the man under discussion walking into the studio, hips swinging in a way that could tempt even angels to fall. He sauntered up to the group, smile radiant, eyes fixed only on Aziraphale.</p><p>“Hiya, angel,” he said, placing his hands on Aziraphale’s hips from behind and placing a lingering kiss on his cheek. Anathema snorted with laughter.</p><p>“Hello, darling,” Aziraphale responded with a smile, turning his head for a proper kiss.</p><p>“Hi ladies,” Crowley greeted the rest of the girls when they finally parted. Aziraphale had to suppress a giggle at their utterly dumbfounded expressions.</p><p>“Not a girlfriend or a bimbo, as it happens,” he said, giving Jen a wink, before he turned to take his usual place at the back of the studio.</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>Crowley was having a hard time concentrating on the ladies in his class. Aziraphale had always been a distraction, but now – now that Crowley had seen him naked, had tangled his fingers in those curls and felt those hips moving against him – well, he was a goner, and happily so. He didn’t dare to look directly at Aziraphale for more than a second or two at a time, for fear that he would do something very embarrassing or very inappropriate. He had to be satisfied with occasional glimpses out of the corner of his eye.</p><p> </p><p>At last, however, the class was over, polite chit-chat had been made, and everyone else had left the studio. Crowley could finally get back to enjoying his beautiful boyfriend. He flipped around on his phone, looking for a particular song, and set it playing. He started swaying in time to the music.</p><p>“Dance with me, angel,” he said, beckoning to Aziraphale.</p><p>Aziraphale, bless him, looked rather bewildered. “I’m sure we haven’t learned anything for this song, dear?” he said.</p><p>“Doesn’t matter. Just do what I do.” He walked up to Aziraphale, hips moving in time to the music.</p><p>“Okay,” Aziraphale said with a grin, starting to mirror Crowley’s movements.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley kept up the soft undulations of his body, bringing his arms into play as well. As the music picked up, so did the movements of his hips. Aziraphale mimicked every move – inexpertly, true, but no less beautiful for it.</p><p>They danced on, Crowley stringing different moves together almost randomly; letting the music guide him, but keeping to the ones he knew Aziraphale would be able to do. The song was unhurried, tenderly melodic, and lent itself to sensual body waves and slow, seductive rolls of the hips. And Crowley, who knew exactly what he was doing, was pulling out all his sexiest moves, trusting that Aziraphale would match him step for step. He knew the song well enough that he could move almost without thinking, leaving most of his brainpower free to appreciate the vision before him.</p><p>And what a vision it was. During class, Aziraphale’s movements were always measured and careful, as if he were afraid to let himself go fully. But now that it was just the two of them, that self-consciousness had fallen away, and Aziraphale was moving without any restraint. It was a glorious sight, and it hit Crowley’s libido like a lead pipe.</p><p> </p><p>He started dancing closer to Aziraphale, trying to give him a ’come hither’ sort of look (although a glimpse in the mirror told him it had landed closer to ‘lovestruck fool’). Aziraphale must have picked up on his intent nonetheless, because he gave him a mischievous grin and made his movements just a <em>little</em> bit sexier, yet kept playfully out of Crowley’s reach. They skirted around each other for another minute or so, any thought of actual choreography forgotten, just enjoying the teasing give-and-take of it, until Crowley finally, by dint of careful misdirection, managed to back Aziraphale into a corner.</p><p>“Gotcha,” he whispered, as he put his hands on Aziraphale’s hips.</p><p>“Got me,” Aziraphale echoed, as he moved his hands onto Crowley’s shoulders.</p><p>The music was still playing, and they hadn’t stopped moving; they were now doing some strange sort of slow dance, grinning like the infatuated fools they were.</p><p> </p><p>Somewhere near the end of the song, the beautiful melody line from the beginning repeated, and Aziraphale moved his hips in a way that tripped all Crowley’s switches. Sheer instinct took over, and he grasped the back of Aziraphale’s head with one hand, pulling him in for a hungry kiss. The other arm slipped around Aziraphale’s back, drawing him closer, pressing their bodies together. Aziraphale, shameless tease that he was, hadn’t stopped moving his hips, which meant he was grinding against Crowley in an entirely indecent way.</p><p>Crowley pulled away, panting. “Fuck, angel,” he growled. “If you don’t stop that, I’m gonna do something that will get me banned from this studio for life.”</p><p>“Go on, then,” Aziraphale said, giving another pointed roll of his hips.</p><p>“Much as I’d love to, they have cameras in here,” Crowley gestured to the security camera above the door. “Not quite in the mood to make a porno tonight.”</p><p>Aziraphale flushed bright red when he realised they were being watched, even if it was only by a piece of electronics. He adjusted the hem of his shirt primly.</p><p>“Well then,” he said. “I suppose we’d better get ourselves somewhere more private, yes?”</p><p>“Hell, yes. Come back to mine?”</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Crowley’s driving hadn’t gotten any better, so by the time they stopped outside his apartment building, Aziraphale’s arousal was firmly in second place behind mild terror.</p><p>It didn’t last long, though. The moment they were through the door of the flat, Crowley pulled him in for a kiss, pressing him against the door, and within seconds they were right back where they had been in the dance studio. Except now they were in private, and Aziraphale could let his hands roam wherever they pleased – which, at this moment, happened to be down Crowley’s back and into his pants, grabbing two handfuls of extremely well-formed arse.</p><p>“Fuck, angel,” Crowley breathed against his mouth.</p><p>“Ooh, yes; let’s,” Aziraphale responded playfully.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked at him, blinked as if he was not sure that what he was hearing was real. Aziraphale gave him a wink.</p><p>That was enough to bring Crowley’s brain back on line, apparently, because suddenly they were kissing again, open-mouthed and hungry, and then they were trying to make their way to the bedroom without letting go of each other or falling over, greedy hands pulling off clothes as they went.</p><p>Aziraphale was still in the sweatpants he wore to class, and they came off easily enough, but Crowley had slithered back into those ridiculously tight jeans of his. Aziraphale wrestled with the button, struggled to get the zip down (none of this helped by the fact that Crowley was, ahem, filling the pelvic area of his jeans rather more than usual.) And when he managed that, there was still the business of sliding those infernal things down his legs. At least the lycra tights he was still wearing helped to smooth the way.</p><p> </p><p>At last – <em>at last</em> – they were off, and Aziraphale was lying back on Crowley’s bed, the gorgeous redhead straddling him and nibbling at his earlobes.</p><p>“How do you want me, angel?” Crowley whispered. “Inside? On top? On my knees in front of you? Just say the word, it’s yours.”</p><p>“I think... yes, I think I would very much like to be inside you,” Aziraphale answered thoughtfully , as if he hasn’t been fantasising about that very thing from the first time he saw that swaying arse.</p><p>“Fuck, yes. <em>Please</em>.” Crowley’s eyes glazed over at whatever mental image was  running through his mind.</p><p>Aziraphale took advantage of the momentary distraction to flip them over, so that he was standing on his hand and knees, hovering above Crowley. “Well, then, my dear,” he purred, “Let me get you ready.”</p><p>Crowley kissed him soundly, then squirmed out from under him to rummage in his bedside drawer, soon returning with a bottle of lube and a packet of condoms. He passed the bottle to Aziraphale. “All yours, angel,” he said, prostrating himself on the bed.</p><p> </p><p>The trust and vulnerability in that simple statement thrilled Aziraphale. He took his time stretching Crowley out, kissing his neck, his chest, his stomach, until he was whimpering with pleasure and begging Aziraphale to “get in me, already!”</p><p>Aziraphale flipped them over again, so that he was lying on his back. “Would you ride me, my darling?” he asked. “Want to look at you, you gorgeous thing.”</p><p>A condom, more lube, a bit of faffing to get the right angle, but at last, Crowley was sinking down on him, excruciatingly slowly, the heat and pressure of it almost unbearable. When he finally sank down all the way, they both let out a moan. Crowley kept completely still for a few beats, giving himself time to adjust, letting out small whimpers of pleasure.</p><p>“Oh, my dearest, you feel so wonderful,” Aziraphale said, awestruck, running his hands up and down Crowley’s sides. Crowley shivered at the touch, and slowly began to move his hips.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gazed up in adoration. Crowley was an absolute vision above him, his eyes closed, a look of pure bliss on his face. He was making small backwards-and-forwards movements with his pelvis, the movement continuing in a wave up his entire torso. In fact, it looked suspiciously like...</p><p>“My dear.. are you... <em>dancing?”</em></p><p>Crowley looked at him in mild surprise. “Hm. I guess I am. Muscle memory, you know. Sorry.”</p><p>“Oh, don’t be sorry,” Aziraphale responded. “You are extraordinary when you move like that.”</p><p>“Oh, yes?” Crowley said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What about this, then?” He brought his arms up in an undulating movement that somehow made them look entirely boneless. He did something very clever with his abs, making a wave ripple through it from top to bottom. Moments later, he added a roll of his hips.</p><p>Aziraphale <em>keened</em>.</p><p>Oh, <em>yes.</em></p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>“Phew. That was a thing,” said Crowley once he caught his breath, still lying on top of Aziraphale in a boneless heap.</p><p>“Hmmm,” agreed Aziraphale. “Good thing?”</p><p>“The best.”</p><p>“Absolutely.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The dancing scene was inspired by this video of Tito Seif and Vasily Ivanov: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btiOrh6zJWA">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btiOrh6zJWA</a>. I’m not sure if they were <em>trying</em> to be so flirty, but my goodness...</p><p>And here’s the music I imagine it happening to: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOjU2bSsYp0">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WOjU2bSsYp0</a></p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Bird of Paradise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Crowley has a Very Special Dance for his angel.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Last chapter, guys - this has been so much fun! Thank you to everyone who's been reading along and commenting and watching all the silly videos I link to - I love you all xx</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>2 years later</em>
</p><p>“Hiya, angel!” Crowley called out as he burst into the flat above the bookshop – their flat, now. Rather more than a year ago they had realised they were spending every night together anyway, so why pay the rent on two places? They had settled into a comfortably sort of domestic bliss surprisingly easily, with only some minor irritations relating to, say, books left on every available surface or Queen being played at unreasonable hours.</p><p>“Hello, dearest,” Aziraphale replied with a smile. He put down the book he had been reading and went over to greet Crowley with a kiss – the same way he had been doing every evening for the last two years or so. The passage of time had certainly not made kissing Crowley any less delicious.</p><p> </p><p>“How was your class?” Aziraphale asked, once his love had been thoroughly kissed.</p><p>“No class today, I was just practicing.” Crowley answered. “Working on a new dance.”</p><p>“Oh? And how’s it going? Can I see it?” Crowley had quite a flair for choreography, and Aziraphale was always thrilled to be the first one to see one of his new dances.</p><p>“I was hoping you would, actually. I’m trying something new. You remember that documentary we were watching the other day? With the Birds of Paradise?”</p><p>Aziraphale nodded. The large flat-screen TV now gracing the living area had been a sticking point at first, but he had to admit that he enjoyed watching movies and documentaries curled up against Crowley’s side. Most recently, they had been watching a series of BBC Earth documentaries, which was almost worth it just for David Attenborough’s voice alone. Crowley had rather enjoyed the Bird of Paradise’s courting dance, and had skipped back to watch it several times.</p><p> </p><p>“So, this new dance was inspired by that,” Crowley said, pushing the coffee table out of the way to clear some floor space. Aziraphale helped him out by pushing the sofa as far back as it could go.  “Sit down and I’ll show you.”</p><p>Aziraphale obediently settled on the sofa as Crowley set up the music on his phone. “Hit play when I tell you,” he said, handing the phone to Aziraphale.</p><p>Crowley went over to his bag and pulled out a sheet of sheer dark-blue fabric. That was new. Aziraphale had seen Crowley dancing with all sorts of props – finger cymbals, pois, even a sword – but he’d never used a veil before.</p><p>Crowley gripped the veil by two corners, wrapped it around himself, and nodded to Aziraphale to start the music.</p><p> </p><p>The dance was exquisite, and Aziraphale was intrigued. The veil imitated the bird’s wings, obviously, but Crowley also managed to mimic the bird’s bobbing, advance-and-retreat movements in a way that was frankly ridiculously sexy. If this was a courting dance, Aziraphale mused, Crowley would be able to have any mate of his choice.</p><p> </p><p>As the dance neared its end, Crowley moved closer and closer to the sofa, until he was circling his hips not much more than a foot away from Aziraphale’s face. The blonde had to clench his hands together to stop them from reaching out and grabbing that beautifully tempting body.</p><p><a id="return6" name="return6"></a>And then, somehow, Crowley sank down into a crouch, circling those sinful hips all the way down<sup>[<a href="#note6">6</a>]</sup>, until the final note found him on his knees before Aziraphale. He was about to start clapping, when he found his hands enveloped by Crowley’s.</p><p>“Aziraphale,” he said, still slightly breathless from the exertion. “What do you think? Was that courtship dance good enough to win me the hand of an angel?”</p><p>The angel in question smiled down at him. “My darling, I imagine it could win you the hand of any angel, devil, king or queen you’d like. You are quite extraordinary.”</p><p>“And how about this angel? Did it win me his hand?” Crowley was looking surprisingly intent.</p><p>“Oh, you silly thing,” Aziraphale responded fondly. “You’ve had this angel for ever, you know that.”</p><p>“Oh, my clever angel, why are you so dim today?” Crowley asked with a fond roll of his eyes. He was still on his knees, still had Aziraphale’s hands clasped in his. “I’m asking you if you’ll marry me.”</p><p>“Oh. OH!” The lightbulb finally clicked on in Aziraphale’s brain, and he tackled Crowley in a hug, landing them in a pile in the floor. “Of course I will, my darling, my dearest heart. I would like nothing better!”</p><p>Crowley threw his head back and whooped out a loud “Wahoo!”</p><p>And of course, Aziraphale just had to kiss him, soundly, lying in a pile on the carpet with his new fiancé. He had never been happier in his life.</p><p> </p><p>
  <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/187976701@N07/49966547721/in/dateposted-public/">
    
  </a>
</p><p>(I drew him dancing, even though it's irrelevant to the story at this point, because how could I not?)</p><p> </p>
<h3>Footnotes</h3><p><a id="note6" name="note6"></a>[6] That is an actual move – it is absolutely gorgeous and quite difficult to do. I learned it a week or so ago. My quads ached for days afterwards.<sup>[<a href="#return6">return to text</a>]</sup></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Want to see what a dance with a veil looks like? Here you go: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUnIu83KXjg">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zUnIu83KXjg</a> It’s Azad Kaan again because I just adore him.</p><p>Here’s a video of a Bird of Paradise: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbLpZn4B7b0">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bbLpZn4B7b0</a></p><p>Thia has been fun! I've started posting my new fic, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24509140">Weeping</a> (yep, it's a bit more heavy than this one) - come check it out!)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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